How Candy Crush Saga Ruined My Marriage

Isn’t the title of this blog about a haircut?  Yes, we’ll get there.  Let’s start from the beginning.

Hi, my name is Dee*.  I say that a lot, since I attend a few different 12 step groups.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’ll try to make a long story short, here….I met my husband Seth* almost 10 years ago.  Our relationship was on-again off-again (mostly off) for the first few years, and there was a lot of physical distance between us.  Then I thought he’d finally grown up, so I moved away from friends and family to his city.  We were quickly engaged, and married not too long after that.  We bought a house… and we started trying to have kids.  And trying, and trying.  Two years, a few miscarriages, and a few failed fertility treatments later, I was finally pregnant with our daughter, Emma*.

Happy didn’t begin to describe how I felt.  Oh my god, finally!  After all the trouble and heartache, I was finally pregnant!  Yes!  The hard part was over!

Nope.

I was working in a casino at the time, although I use the term “working” liberally because I spent far more time gambling than I did working… and far more money gambling than I ever earned working.  So, I had a gambling problem.  No, I have a gambling problem, I’ve just been able to abstain thanks to the help of GA (Gambler’s Anonymous).

For the first time, I had taken a cash advance from the credit card to finance my gambling.  Well, I hadn’t intended to gamble with it, I only wanted to maintain the illusion that I made money at my job.  I “needed” more cash because I’d lost all that I could withdraw that day, and given my job of course people would expect me to have cash on hand.  But then I couldn’t resist, and gambled that.  Which resulted in a second cash advance right before I left, to the same end–keeping up the facade that I had cash.

At this point, I’m roughly 4 months into my pregnancy.

The next night, I am so wracked with guilt, and fear, over my gambling that I can’t sleep to save my life.  So I start playing Candy Crush Saga on my phone.  Another compulsive behavior, and not one likely to help me sleep.  I’m so awake, and getting frustrated with the game, so I decide to give in and buy one of the stupid 99 cent upgrades.  Except my credit card gets declined for some reason.  Ah well, I resolve to figure it out in the morning, and then bang my head against some virtual candy for maybe another hour or so.

Then I check my Email, and I have an Email from the credit card about some suspicious activity.  I panic, immediately assuming it’s about the cash advance(s) from the day before, and become convinced that they are going to Email or call Seth.  In hindsight, I’m almost positive the Email was referencing the failed 99 cent transaction in the game.  But, it was insane o’clock in the morning, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.

So I look at my sleeping husband (I was always jealous of how easily he could find sleep) and I tiptoed over to his charging phone.  I was careful to make sure any light from unplugging it would not shine his way–Indiana Jones would be proud.  I crept out of the bedroom with my prize.  Then I stopped by the bathroom to do what many women, especially pregnant ones, have to do in the middle of the night.  I turned on his phone and swiped to unlock the home screen.

There upon the porcelain throne I uncovered a whole world of shit I’d never imagined.  I couldn’t believe what I stumbled upon, just by turning the phone on.  It was a raunchy conversation with another woman, and those words will forever be etched in my brain.

That was when I discovered my husband is a sex addict.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent, and not so innocent.

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